Four writers for the price of one blog
She laced her fingers in his deliberately as she bummed his cigarette. He was fine as a tall glass of lemonade in August and she’d been waiting for an opportunity to touch him all night.
She didn’t even smoke, but she had drank enough that it didn’t make her gag. His gaze seared her more than the smoke in her lungs and she suddenly understood why so many got addicted.
“Jesus,” he whispered as he took the cigarette back. He looked at the bright red smudge on the filter, then wrapped his lips around the thing so deliberately her pussy hiccupped.
“What?” Her cheeks burned with lust and vodka.
The cherry burned for a full four seconds before he was done inhaling, and his eyes never left hers. They were already nearly on top of each other, but she still managed to get a little closer. She waited patiently.
“The paint…er, lipstick.” He pointed the cigarette at her mouth.
“What about it?”
He grabbed her leg and gently pulled it into his lap. Her skin-tight jeans pressed into her swollen clit. She shivered hard enough to shake him, but he was a man on a mission. He pointed to her shoes.
“That lipstick’s the oral equivalent of ‘fuck me pumps.'” His face glowed – he felt very clever. She fondled his chest, sliding her fingers in the spaces between his shirt buttons. He was naked underneath and the feel of his silky chest hair made her nipples hard. He grabbed her hand and kissed her sweaty palm. He stood up, and for a couple of seconds she didn’t register his extended hand beckoning. Her eyes traveled to the promising bulge in his jeans and up slowly. He finally took her in his arms and carried her out of the room. She was not a tiny woman, but she felt fragile in his embrace. She knew it wasn’t only his stature that made her feel that way…
He was a gentleman, through and through.
She wondered whether he was a gentleman once the talking stopped. Would he resist the urge to pound into her balls deep or slide his thumb into her asshole? Would he ask permission to backhand her jiggling ass?
“What are you giggling at?” He put her down on bigger sofa and sat beside her. They were gloriously alone.
“I don’t know. I feel like a teenager drinking for the first time. You know. Silly.” She touched her forehead dramatically, then giggled again.
“Ah.” He gave her a long look.” Anyway, let me finish my thought.” He pulled her onto his lap.
“Please continue.” She wrapped her arms around him.
“I don’t usually notice a woman’s shoes.” He squeezed her ass as he spoke, pulling her toward his hips. “…but when a beauty comes into the room with a miniskirt so mini it’s like a minute to midnight and a pair of spike heels, every straight dick in the room hardens.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Of course. She’s half-naked.” She played around with his belt buckle and watched his face for a reaction. He thrust his hips forward. She unbuckled his belt slowly.
“You’d think that, but it’s not precisely true,” he said. He squeezed her ass hard enough to make her gasp – she wasn’t expecting it. Not from him. “Even if she had the loveliest body, it wouldn’t be the same if she was wearing sneakers or flip-flops.” He sighed when she grabbed his cock through his boxers.
“Good point.” She began to grind on his cock. His hard heat made her pussyflesh prickle through her jeans.
His hands moved slowly up her body. “The heels are a blatant advertisement…” He caressed the cloth right over her nipples. They hardened instantly. “…a sartorial promise of endless sexual possibilities.” She slid off his lap and knelt in front of him. He stilled the hand moving in his boxers and she pouted. He cupped her chin in his hand and rubbed at her plump lower lip with his thumb. “It’s the same thing with this color on a woman’s lips.”
“Red,” he repeated as he slid two fingers into her mouth. She sucked instinctively, but he moved them in and out of her mouth, watching her eyes go glassy. She didn’t know that he — a dyed-in-the wool door-opening, chair-pulling gentleman — could be so intense. She was spun out, completely mystified.
And very, very aroused.
She usually liked running the fuck, but she was curious… and he was worth it. He pulled his fingers out of her mouth and licked the warm thread of saliva that dripped on her chin. She tried to kiss him, but he kissed behind her ear instead. His fingers, still wet with her saliva, reached inside her bra and pinched her nipple. He pressed her hand on his cock, rubbing her fingertips against the silky ridges. She nearly came when she felt wetness.
“I want you to suck it until the red rubs off,” he whispered. Her clit pulsed bright and quick as the strobelights flashing in the other room.
He didn’t have to say please.